All work and no play
by Hordepally
Summary: 1-shot. Just my idea of the kinds of things Jack did pre-Joker.


**A/N: **Just my idea of one of the things Jack may have gotten up to before he re-appeared as the Joker.

**All work and no play**

Eddie watched the city whiz by and calmed his nerves by daydreaming about how he'd spend his share of the money.

First he'd buy a suit. Then go to the most expensive titty-joint he could find, buy champagne and get lapdances from every good looking girl in the place. Hell, maybe even a blowjob. He heard the girls would do that in some places, if the money was right. Then a bag of some of the best cocaine Chicago had to offer.

Alone in the backseat Smiley stared out the window, no doubt thinking about the same things.

_Smiley._

Eddie wanted to laugh when he thought of the guy's nickname. No one knew his real name. No one cared. He'd just kind of shown up and started doing little jobs for some of the local loan sharks and drug dealers. Word had gotten out fast. Smiley was a cold motherfucker and he liked what he did. Need a woman shot for owing money and no one wanted to do it? Smiley would shoot her. Need a house burned down with the residents still inside? Smiley would do it. Happily.

He hardly ever spoke and when he did everyone listened. If he wasn't so fucking strange, Eddie reflected, he'd have a future here. But the simple fact was Smiley was a freak. He was the type of guy you didn't want to be around for very long. Something about him made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your skin crawl. And it wasn't just his face. It was the way he spoke, the weird jokes he told, the way he laughed. It was everything.

Of course his face didn't help. The guy's mouth had been mangled, cut from the corners to halfway through his cheeks, giving him the impression of a permanent grin. That's how he'd gotten his nickname. It was cruel, sure, but Smiley didn't seem to mind. Smiley didn't seem to mind anything.

Once Eddie had gotten brave and asked him how he'd gotten the scars. Smiley had looked at him, his lips stretching into a real smile.

"It's a long story," he'd said. "But one day I'll tell you."

Then he'd laughed and said nothing more. Smiley was definitely odd.

"So everything went okay?" John asked. He was the getaway driver, a pussy's job if ever there was one.

"Yeah," Eddie responded. "Without a hitch. No one got cute, no one got killed and we got every piece of jewelry in the place."

"You guys kept your faces covered, right?" John sounded nervous. He was a young guy and easily rattled.

"Well I did but 'ol Smiley back there took his mask off and showed everyone his pretty face for the evening news. What the fuck do you think? Of course we kept our faces covered."

Behind them Smiley laughed.

"Now all we have to do is get rid of this shit and we're good to go." Eddie continued.

"We're still taking it to Stevie's right?" John asked, steering the car onto a back street.

"Yep, down by the docks."

John nodded. "Won't take long to get there, long as nothing happens."

"Nothing will happen." Eddie assured him.

"Hey Smiley, what are you gonna do with your money?" Eddie asked.

"Plastic surgery." John muttered under his breath.

Smiley shrugged. "I haven't really, uh, thought about it yet." He kept staring out the window.

Eddie turned to look at him incredulously. "You haven't?? What are you, crazy?"

Smiley's eyes met his and Eddie held the other man's gaze for only a second before looking away. Those eyes, like a doll's or a shark's.

"I don't really place a whole lot of importance on it," Smiley answered. "It's just paper. No, there are more important things in life."

"Like?"

John stopped for a red light and swore softly. The street was deserted this close to the docks and it made him anxious. Cops could be anywhere, parked in any alleyway just waiting to come after them.

"Like...." Smiley licked his lips, an action that gave Eddie the creeps each time he witnessed it, and appeared to mull it over. "Like chaos. Upsetting the balance. Making everyone run for their lives. _Everyone_."

Smiley's next action was a blur. A bang, deafening in the car's close confines, and John's head slumped onto the steering wheel amidst a spray of blood. The car rolled forward, through the now green light, and shot straight for a dumpster on the side of the street.

"Jesus Christ! Are you insane?" Eddie gasped, the realization of what had happened finally sinking in. Smiley had shot John and now they were about to have a hell of an accident in a car full of stolen jewelry.

"Don't just sit there, do something." Smiley said mockingly. He seemed unconcerned, even amused, about the imminent wreck.

Eddie slid over and braked the car, then put it in park as it reached the dumpster. He was reaching for his own gun when he felt cold steel slide into his mouth.

"Guys like you only care about money, hm? How _common_." The voice was smooth and menacing in John's ear. "Answer me. Oh, and if you grab that gun I'll cut your eyes out while you're still alive."

"N....no." Eddie stuttered. "That isn't....isn't all." He tasted blood in his mouth where the knife had nicked his inner cheek.

"Hey," Smiley's voice suddenly turned light, almost friendly. "Do you wanna know how I got these scars?"


End file.
